


All's Fair in Love and Waffles

by pixiePique



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, and waffles, everyone loves each other in this apartment, except for Sollux and John, they like the dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-18
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-21 16:39:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2475089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pixiePique/pseuds/pixiePique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the author promotes interspecies homosexuality, and John loves waffles. So much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. John is an innocent and oblivious consumer of waffles.

"Roxy."  
Roxy continued painting her nails a (in Rose's opinion, rather garish) shade of pink, ignoring her sister completely.  
"Rox."  
Other than crossing her ankles and blowing gently on her razor-sharp fingernails, Roxy showed no sign that she had even heard her increasingly exasperated sibling.  
"Roxanne Elizabeth Lalonde."  
This was as agitated as Rose would ever get. If Roxy continued to frustrate her, Rose would make sure they found an apartment with a no-liquor clause. Roxy could handle almost anything, but having to narrowly avoid overly-aggressive cab drivers on the streets of New York without a martini in hand did not fall into that category.   
"What's up, sis?" Roxy craned her neck to see Rose's stony expression, giving her the patented showgirl wink she had been practicing in the mirror for a solid five months.  
"The flight attendant has asked me to inform you that the noxious fumes of your hideous nail polish are not as pleasant to the other people aboard this flight as they apparently are to you." She answered, eyes flicking back down to the cramped writing on her psychiatric notebook.  
Roxy reached over with her brush, dripping paint on the word "ideological". "Why didn't she just ask me, huh?"  
"Most likely she fears that if she antagonizes you, you will gouge out her eyes with those pink monstrosities and tape them to your wall whilst singing songs from Chicago." Rose replied, disinterestedly wiping the paint off before continuing to scribble.  
"Fine. I was done anyway." Roxy pouted at her sister's show of indifference, twisting the bottle's cap shut.  
"I notice you didn't deny the assumption that you have a wall of freshly acquired eyeballs." Rose's eyes glinted at Roxy while she poised her pen to save her sister's response for later psychoanalysis.  
"I'm not gonna deny any weird sentence you make up where you imply that Chicago is a boss musical. Roxy is the shit." She shot back, grinning cheekily. "Hey, maybe you could make the eyeball thing the next plot twist in your weird videogame apocalypse series!"  
Rose smiled mischievously. "My characters are far too abnormal to have that be any kind of twist. It has to be something the reader would never anticipate."  
Roxy rolled her eyes. "Okay then, Miss Brilliant-Author McGee, what do you got?"  
Rose tapped her pen, grinning at her sister. "Do you remember when Cal opens that Juju chest?"  
"Duh, my character got totally fucked up and wanted to have babies! Can you imagine me trying to raise a kid?" Roxy giggled.  
Rose nodded. "Well, I'm making that the same chest the one that ends up in John's bedroom at the beginning of the prequel."  
"Shit!" Roxy exclaimed.  
Annoyed flyers threw dirty looks her way from the surrounding rows.  
"Roxy, there are children on this flight." Rose chastised quietly.  
Roxy clapped her hands to her mouth, horrified. "Sorry!" She squeaked, looking around. Once the other passengers began ignoring her again, she leaned in close to Rose. "Shit." She whispered in awe.  
"I know." Rose gleefully replied.  
...  
"Rosie, what about this one? Two ex-sorority girls looking for-"  
Rose cut the excited girl off with a wave of her hand. "I'm going to stop you right there."  
Roxy slammed her tumbler down angrily. "How can you possibly hate them already?"  
Rose looked up at her sister, surprised to see the answer wasn't obvious. "Sorority girls."  
"EX-sorority girls." Roxy spat.  
Rose's eyes flicked back to her laptop as if they'd never been away. "They never change, Roxy. If the four of us were in a room together for five seconds, two would be leaving in body bags- and you know it wouldn't be the Lalonde girls."   
Roxy took a deep drink of whiskey, turning back to the pile of roommate advertisements.  
"Just keep those fucking knitting needles away from me." She sighed resignedly.  
...  
"What about this one? 221B Baker Street. He plays the violin." Rose smiled, anticipating many compositions and logic-based debates with the self-proclaimed high-functioning sociopath.  
Roxy's glitter-lined eyes widened as she stared at the advertisement. "Um, HOW many different types of tobacco ash?"  
After wrestling the phone away from a desperate Roxy, Rose barely uttered two words before settling her mouth into a grim line and replacing the phone with a soft click, her bare nails digging into the plastic the only outward sign of distress.  
"Taken. Of course."   
With each sip of cheap hotel vodka, it became harder for Roxy to pretend that she was disappointed.  
...  
"Dave. Do not touch the air conditioning. Do not even think about touching the air conditioning. You are going to treat that air conditioning like it is my fucking child. If you touch it, it dies. Okay? Do not. Fucking. Touch. The air conditioning."  
Karkat stared Dave down, laying a protective hand on his beloved source of cool breezes.  
"I don't know why we even need air conditioning when we could just have John do the windy thing that he's apparently so good at." Dave replied, bored.  
"Fuck you, Dave. I have better things to do than sit around and keep you buttholes cool all day." John called, sticking his head out from behind the kitchen door.  
Dave rolled his eyes, then realized that nobody could see the gesture through his thick, though absolutely ill, shades. "Whatever man." He answered in his usual eloquent manner. And then-  
"Dude. Not cool." Dave almost lost his cool as Karkat, in an attempt to take a step across the empty-pizza-box-littered, hazardous battleground the dorks liked to call their living room, collapsed onto the knight's thighs.   
"Sorry." gasped the tiny boy as he struggled to overcome the pain of a severely rug-burned knee. "Fuck, I wish it was - mmmm- cool enough in here to wear- fucking shit- pants."  
The blonde leaned in closer, placing his hand on Karlat's thigh with a shit-eating grin. "You want me to kiss it better, babe?"  
Karkat scowled, trying to hide how he glowed under Dave's attention. "Fuck you, Strider." He made no effort to move his face away.  
Dave put his lips on the boy's ear and whispered "I like it when you don't wear pants." Then quickly kissed his cheek before moving away.  
John reentered with a plate of waffles soon after.  
"Dave, why is karkat bright red?"  
"Why are you smirking at me?"  
"What is going on?"  
"Dave?"


	2. Boys are weird and Roxy likes to manipulate them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen sometimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet ya thought I'd forgotten you  
> Surprise

"Hello?" Dirk answered the phone hurriedly, assuming it was news of his pizza order. Instead, a bubbly and slightly drunken female voice answered that she'd like very much to know if the room for rent was still available.  
"The one with the bunk bed?" Dirk asked, writing down her name and number.  
Indeed, she confirmed. The one with the bunk bed.  
...  
"So, top or bottom?" Roxy seductively leaned on the wall and winked at her new, spiky-haired roommate. He froze for a split second, and then resumed unpacking things as if nothing had happened.  
"I'm not gay." he gripped the cardboard box hard enough to turn the tips of his fingers white, trying not to let his heart beat faster or show any signs of discomfort. He had spent barely five minutes with this girl, and he already suspected she was some kind of secret agent, or possibly a witch. Her gaydar was the best he'd ever seen, and he did not want to see what others skills she possessed. She could probably smell fear.  
"Of course you aren't." she deadpanned, unpacking a Hello Kitty alarm clock.  
"Didn't your mother ever teach you that it's rude to stereotype?" he refused to look at her over his shoulder, not wanting her to see the fear in his eyes.  
"I'm not stereotyping. I know. Momma Lalonde always knows." she purred  
menacingly.  
"You didn't answer my question."  
"You didn't answer mine!"  
Dirk's angry breathing and Roxy's stifled giggles were the only sounds in the room as the two stared at each other, Dirk feeling more and more nervous and bewildered as he tried and failed to find some humanity in her pink eyes, seeing only cold intelligence with a hint of crazy. He thought this must be what Dave felt like when he saw Terezi.  
Dirk broke first, straightening with a haughty expression. Running a hand through his gelled hair, he looked at the floor. "Fine," he said nonchalantly, "I'm gay as hell, and a bottom. But how you knew is a real mystery." he narrowed his eyes, waiting for an explanation.  
Roxy replied instantly, nonchalantly brushing her hair out of her face. "I didn't, actually. I was talking about the bunk bed. Thanks for letting me know, though." She turned flippantly as Dirk slammed the door behind him, and smirked as she heard his footsteps angrily retreat. 

Rose knocked on the door a few minutes later.  
"I saw Dirk stomping down the hallway looking rather homicidal. Do you have any idea what that might be about?" she leveled her icy glare on the smug girl.  
"No idea, sis." Roxy shrugged, smiling innocently.  
"Mmhm. Do try not to alienate our new housemates before we even move in." she advised quietly, shutting the door as she left.  
Roxy grinned so widely it felt like her face would split in two.  
...  
Rose and Roxy sat side by side, staring at the spectacle before them. Even though more than half of the chairs in the living room sat empty, Dave, John, Karkat, Sollux, and Dirk had all squeezed onto one couch that directly faced the chairs where the sisters now sat. This had led to an uncomfortable-looking tangle of limbs where colorful threats and sharp elbows in the ribs were being traded in whispers while the boys stared down the blondes. The girls sat uncomfortably in the middle of the room where they had been directed, feeling as if they were being tried for some crime by a large group of five-year-olds. Watching the scene take place in one strange horizontal line, Rose thought it looked remarkably like an awkward last supper, although she was sure that Jesus never would have threatened to castrate his friends if they did not immediately "shove a giant cup of shut the fuck up in your asses so we can get to know the shit out of these girls, you fucking nookwhiffs" as the rather angry, short one who desperately needed a haircut did.  
"Fucking nerds" Roxy whispered gleefully, awed by the display of sheer immaturity.  
"So," John called, looking down at his notebook as the other boys finally calmed down. "First of all, why do you want to live here?"  
The sisters looked at each other and wondered why anyone wouldn't want to live there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha my phone corrected homicidal to homosexual looks like even  
> autocorrect knows Dirk is gay


End file.
